There have been an amazing number of supernatural things happening at Antioch over the last few weeks. We will post more stories soon, but I wanted to share with you H’s story. H is a teenager who began visiting our church through a few of her friends that have been in our youth group; they asked her to come to Re:Create, Antioch’s youth art outreach. She’s been hanging around for the last 2.5 months, but has not wanted to give her life to Jesus until last Sunday! She has written her testimony to share, so I’m posting it here. It’s long, but it is WELL worth it. I will warn you that she’s very honest with the hard things she’s faced–and she’s just 18. But it’s an amazing story. So, without further delay….it’s H’s story, in her own words:
I see a little girl, running through fields, so bright and fresh, with her Daddy following close behind her. She plays in the sand on beautiful beaches and sits down by the shore with her Mummy, gazing dreamily into the unknown. A smile always stretched from ear to ear. Such a creative and fun loving little girl. This is what I remember of happiness: Innocent and enchanting. As I grew older I began to taste the bitterness of reality and see the shadows in this broken world. My first real experience of the darkness happened when I was on holiday with my parents in Cornwall summer‘05. Drifting peacefully to sleep my dreams were shattered as glass was sprayed everywhere. Screams ricocheted through the blackness as the three of us were flung violently sideways when the out of control car flew at me from the hedge. I watched helplessly as the left wing mirror was catapulted through the front window narrowly missing both my parents’ heads and exiting out through the right window spraying a second shower of glass. Then there was silence. A silence that was so long, so loud and excruciatingly painful. Relief came as I felt the touch of my parent’s hands rest in my blood soaked palms. The rest of that night was a blur. I felt the warm, friendly touch and safety of a stranger as they carefully placed a warm drink into my shaking hands. Alone, I watched helplessly as yet more strangers took my Mum away. From that horrible night, pain was unleashed upon me. Little did I know that the next 5 years would be hell.
I came home a few weeks later in desperate need of my best friends support. I rang her. No answer. I rang again to hear that Chelsea was gone, abandoned and alone in a care home. We met up often and I helped as much as I could. Chel only had me who loved her in the whole world and everyone needs someone to lean on. I carried her down her path and I could only watch in horror as she slipped from my arms, careering off the rails into the darkness. I listened to her stories and problems that tore me up inside, but I had to stay strong for her, even if it meant locking all my problems away. She changed for the worse and unfortunately I went with her because it was the only road I could see and I couldn’t let go of her hand. I began hanging around with the wrong people, doing all the wrong people. But what did it matter if I was addicted to nicotine and binge drinking my problems away at the age of 13? No one cared anyway. I certainly didn’t.
I lost my Mum but also my best friend the night of the crash. The loving, caring and happy Mum I had always known. Now she is just a figure that breathes painfully surviving each day. I became her slave, controlled like a robot. We would argue and fight constantly or just not communicate at all. I just needed a mum that would help and support me but the world decided I couldn’t have one anymore. I have always been close to my Dad but never able to speak about personal things with him. I was completely alone whilst everything I had known began crashing down around me. In the next year I lost my Grandpa. This was the first real sense of grief and loss I had experienced and again someone I loved so dearly was taken away from me. I locked my hurt away in the steel cages box at the back of my mind and I swore never to let any of it out. I wore a mask to hide my pain and I never removed it until I was completely alone. I slipped further among the shadows as time went on and looking for alternative ways to relieve me from my suffering, even if it was just a short while to give me a break. These feelings became more addictive and so did the substances that produced them. However, I continued to fight against their cruel hold on me, somehow hoping my life would improve and I would be released me from this torture. I lost 2 more friends in the coming years, one to cancer and one to a horrific accident. They will always have a special place in my heart beside my Grandpa. I couldn’t imagine that the pain I was experiencing could possibly get any worse… I was wrong.
With Christmas ’07 fast approaching, I began to feel the familiar excitement that came with the festive season. There was snow, sledging and heaps of chocolate! I remembered my early childhood years, how I would be bursting with excitement, before exploding among a heap of presents on Christmas morning. We always opened gifts as a family to observe the priceless expressions on one another’s faces. I looked forward to family gatherings and fooling around with my relatives, especially my older cousin Matthew. We had grown up together and I had become much more attached to him than the rest of my cousins. We would sit alone playing video games chatting for hours on end. No one ever batted an eyelid. That Christmas I wish they had. We were close, but obviously he knew his boundaries. I trusted him with my life believing he would never hurt me. That Christmas everything changed. Matthew changed. He crossed those boundaries uninvited onto my land invading my personal space. I was cornered with no way out. Doors blocked and strong arms pinning me up against the cold damp wall. I pushed back failing to remove his grip. I was trapped by my own trust with no escape. At first glance I thought he was teasing but upon looking in his dark eyes I saw a different story. Power radiated from him that I never imagined he could posses. I was completely and unwillingly under his control as he towered high above me. The first act of indecency was the hardest to endure, feeling his warm skin pressed against mine, surrounded by his familiar smell that polluted the air suffocating me as I continued to satisfy him. From that moment on I was bound to secrecy to protect my family from being completely destroyed. I longed to never be forced to experience anything similar to that ever again. Then I heard the news that 3 more family gatherings were planned over the forthcoming weeks. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach as I realised the abuse that lurked in the distance waiting for me. I attempted to remain among the company of others but each time evil managed to trap me alone with that monster. I was forced to participate in many more indecent acts that pained me both physically and mentally. Flashes from the camera were a small comfort as his face was hidden for just a few short moments. My spirit watched from a distance unable to free my body from the cruel grasp of the darkness. During what was to become the very last filthy action from him my spirit found me again forcing him away and driving my raging fist into his wicked face. I broke free and pushed him hard back across the boundary line building a fort to keep him out.
The next few months I kept quiet, feeling dirty filled with guilt and shame. My parents didn’t notice the change in me due to not being around long enough to take any notice. I was filled with so many unexplainable emotions and thoughts. I had no one to confide in that would keep my secret and I needed some relief, different from the drugs and alcohol. I longed to feel real pain. I never anticipated that first cut would spiral out of my control into an addiction far greater than anything I was already experiencing. Motionless I stared intently at the deep scarlet red flow from my wrist providing the release I so badly needed. My best friends noticed my isolation and the scars which would soon expose the secret I held onto so tightly. I began to slowly crack at school and emotions spilled out like the gush of water from a loch. Teachers were informed and my secrets revealed without any consideration for my feelings at all. I was interrogated like a criminal and just like I predicted, nobody understood so I ran, refusing to return. Eventually I returned home to discover my Mother was a complete wreck and my father on the phone threatening Matthew with every warning under the sun! Finished. Ended. No more was said on the matter as if it never happened. I was expected to continue my life as attending every family gathering as not to arise suspicion. I did as I was told giving in to every challenge as I slowly grew weaker sinking further into the blackness
The next year I tried hopelessly to reach the faint light visible through the blackness that engulfed me. I still wore my mask, hiding from the world knowing that nobody would understand. Slowly the light got closer until Christmas ‘08 when all hope disappeared altogether. I still cringe at the memory of his cold, dirty touch on my naked skin and the stench of booze that swamped me. I still see his face engraved in my head as permanent as a tattoo.
Over the next few months depression swallowed me as the storm clouds rolled in and my addictions worsened. The stars vanished and I stopped believing they even existed. I got sick. My soul was sick. The nightmares I experienced with monsters invading my imagination became my reality. I finally sought help from a doctor who prescribed pills to treat my insanity. I removed myself from unhelpful environments and situations as a way to cut back the drugs. I began thinking of my future and gained an interview at Manchester Metropolitan University and 2 more for colleges as a way of achieving my Foundation Diploma in Art therefore allowing me to further study Art at degree level. All my interviews went well and I acquired places at both colleges however I really wanted to go to Manchester. I sought after a new start altogether to be independent and leave all my junk behind in Sheffield. I was hopeful that my interview went well and the tutors were impressed with my work. Slowly I began to improve as amazing new people and opportunities were introduced into my life. These friends supported and listened to me, revealing new paths I could follow. Love was overwhelming along with feelings of existence and belonging. But even the most amazing friends could not remove the pain that was rooted in my heart. I received a letter from Manchester informing me of my failure to achieve a place on their course. This was the last blow I could take. The disappointment I felt was too overpowering. Gradually I hit rock bottom so close to ending it all for good. I only stopped for a second to breathe one more breath. Before I knew what was happening I was safe in my friend’s arms as she held tightly the broken mess that bled out before her.
Never before had I allowed myself to be that vulnerable, particularly not in front of others. I had always perceived vulnerability to be a demonstration of weakness, although now I consider it to be evidence of strength. I had the strength to let out my emotions and deal with them, even if it was a messy process. With nowhere else to go I reached the end of my road. That is where I saw God waiting for me with outstretched arms. I didn’t know what to do or if I even believed it was real. God began to prove who he was in ways that even I couldn’t deny. I attended church as a child but stopped going when I reached my teen years. I visited a new church to see my friend Becky perform in the band and spend time with some of my other amazing new friends. One great friend, Kate, was praying for me and she began to speak in tongues! It was a beautiful language to listen too. I went over to hug my friend Lara who also decided to pray for me. I broke down and she asked for joy to fill me up. I stood alone and listened intently to the band play. I cursed that nothing good ever happened to me and God didn’t care. Eventually tears stopped falling and I began to feel calmer. Daniel began praying at the front of the congregation and that’s when I heard God speak to me.
Dan: God, You are AMAZING!
God: I Know!
Dan: We praise you God!
God: I love it when you guys do that!
I was completely stunned! I saw pictures from my past of when God was written in the sky, when I heard the story of Becky’s vision and the incredible image of the sun setting on the Amazon River, Peru, where I had visited 2 years earlier. I began to realise the pictures I was seeing were places in my life that God had revealed himself to me but I had failed to notice. Now, stood in front of me was the Holy Spirit. It raced around the church, pulling faces at members of the congregation, popping out of organ tubes and running into walls to make me laugh. From behind he held me close and I felt safe and not alone for the first time in years. I laughed uncontrollably for about half an hour. I was so happy! The week that followed was full of yet more experiences. I prayed and God answered me by replacing lies with truth. He revealed things to me in the bible and gave me hope that rescue is possible and a broken heart can still be saved. I heard about Jesus how he carried sin from the past back hell, handed it to the devil and walked back out again. Now everyone who believed him could live by grace and he would take their sins away too.
Still I watched God waiting with open arms as I slowly edged closer to him. I attended church again on Sunday along with two missionaries from American. The told tales of how they had converted people in Tunisia and healed the sick as proof God existed. He healed a man’s broken hand right before my eyes. It was incredible! I prayed silently for Kate’s back to be healed because I hated seeing her in so much pain. Surely enough she was cured and all pain was gone! People gathered around me and prayed for me too. I took the last step into God’s arms as I gave my life to Jesus realising that the life I had was no life at all.
You were created to be loved and live life in a relationship with God. You need to know that your story is important and that you’re part of a bigger story. Your life matters and it is worth fighting for. I know all too well that pain is real, but I also know that help and hope are very real too and rescue is possible. You are not alone and this is not the end. Choosing God makes things new. Most of my story I have never told anyone before, but with God’s help I was able to release every secret I had locked away. I can see the stars again and even when the clouds cover them I know that they are still shining just as brightly. Remember that.
